


The Humans Invade Back

by BooksandComicBooks



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Gen, Kindness, Secret Organizations, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24526972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BooksandComicBooks/pseuds/BooksandComicBooks
Summary: "There are lots of reasons to not get involved. For one thing, you could die. But there will be risks anyway, and getting involved can help end the war peacefully; even if it doesn't, there will be a time after the war. We need to build the foundations of an allyship that can save us later.".A series that looks at members of the Yeerk Peace Movement and how they tried to build something better than hate.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I've come back to make small changes to these first few chapters since they were originally published, but anyone who's read them before doesn't need to worry; nothing in the story itself changes.   
> Please enjoy!

There was a a saying among Humans. Two words that managed to hold foreboding and warning.

Too easy.

This invasion had been too easy, Illim thought as he sipped at a coffee through his host's lips. Of course the Yeerks had known it would be, that was the point. A species that had developed decent technology, but not advanced enough to fight back properly.

Well. Illim supposed there was still a reason they were keeping this whole invasion so quiet. Humans had an *obsession* with their power of agency, and were known to become incredibly violent when they were threatened. Quite a few hosts had fallen by their own hand. Suicides, they were called. Illim shuddered. This species didn't have limits. That's why Controllers had to take precautions.

So all of this... he glanced around the pool, at the voluntary hosts and the unwilling ones in cages... all of this was too easy for what it should have been.

He was part of a group who believed that they had figured out the Humans' secret weapon. It was so... un-intuitive, so unusual, that even the Humans weren't aware of it.

They called it Stockholm syndrome. "They think we look friend-shaped", some of the more uncomfortable Yeerks liked to joke.

There was something philosophical about it, Illim supposed. He ended up discussing it late one evening with his host, Tidwell. 

"Stockholm syndrome is what happens to people held captive," Tidwell explained. "It's an extension of our tribal instincts; we get attached to anyone we spend a lot of time with."

"But it *is* for the captive, isn't it?" Illim had pressed. "You're the ones who should be getting it."

Tidwell had smothered a smirk, but Illim could still sense it. "What?" he asked, but he didn't prod at his host's brain to find out.

"You can't ever leave my mind," Tidwell said. "Even if you shut me off from your thought process, you always have to be watching mine. I may not have a choice in how I move, but I'm not the only captive here."

If Illim had known what taking a Human host would be like, he doesn’t think he would have ever left the homeworld. He might have even said that taking on a Taxxon would be better than taking on a Human host; at least you went into their heads expecting to succumb to their wild instincts.

But that was the insidious thing about the Human weapon. Once you got attached... it was already too late.

The invasion had been too easy. Because while the Yeerks had been slithering into Human brains, the Humans had been sneaking into their's. 


	2. Meet Daniela and Aflin

“No, I’ve had it,” Daniela stood up from her chair in the Yeerk pool lounge. 

Mr. Tidwell didn’t raise his head, didn’t even raise his voice. “You don’t want to do that,” he said.

Daniela paused just as she was about to walk past him. “Who the hell are you?” she began to snarl, but stopped halfway. Her expression flickered, like she was reminding herself why she should calm down.

“Would you like to join me?” Mr. Tidwell said. She pursed her lips, staring out the window at the pool. People were screaming; she could see their mouths move, but the lounge room was soundproofed. 

“Please,” Tidwell insisted.

She looked at him. He seemed earnest, a little scared. Not of her, but for her.

She sat, but crossed her arms defensively. “Don’t try to convince me that I shouldn’t go free all those people.”

“Should, of course you should. But could you?” Tidwell pushed his plate of snacks her way. Daniela wrinkled her nose. 

“People are suffering and your answer is chocolate?” she said indignantly.

“Your first day on this side of the pool?” he asked.

She muttered indistinctly but nodded her head. 

“Not a lot of people can stand to be here willingly for long,” Tidwell said. “A lot end up back in the cages. You’ve been there before, haven’t you?”

She nodded, more subdued this time.

He held out his hand. “I’m Robert. Robert Tidwell.”

“Bond, James Bond,” she joked and held out her hand too. “Daniela. I wish I could say it’s a pleasure to meet you, Robert, but not in here.”

He nodded towards the pool. “How many cages do you think you could open before someone either caught you or shot you?”

Daniela gave him a wry look. “Yeah, fine, so I didn’t think it through.” She looked down at her hands. “I don’t even have a lockpick.”

“I know someone who tried that,” he said. “They used a bobby pin. They were good a that sort of thing, too. But the Yeerks have updated every security protocol since the Andalites started coming in.”

Daniela sighed. “Yeah, professor,” she said, leaning back, “I know. I never had a chance. It still sucks.” She gestured to the window. “How do you stand it? None of those people have to suffer. I mean once you get to know…” She caught herself before she finished the thought.

Tidwell sipped his tea and pretended he hadn’t heard anything. He had a good feeling about her, though. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought she was about to say “once you get to know your Yeerk”. Which was quite a controversial thing, even among the willing hosts. It still felt like a betrayal. A cognitive dissonance, especially now that they’d gained privilege for accepting the enemy. 

“It’s easier for most to close their eyes when they’re not directly involved,” Tidwell said quietly. This wasn’t the right place to have this conversation, where they could be overheard by any disinterested host and later denounced by a power-hungry Yeerk.

“Yeah, well I’ve never been a big fan of the whole See no evil, Hear no evil, Speak no evil thing.” Daniela glared through the window, looking like she was ready to vaporise the glass.

“And does your Yeerk agree with this?”

A flash of worry passed over her face before she collected her expression to neutrality. “He’d tell me to stay quiet and to stop distracting him,” she said. A perfect response. 

Tidwell wasn’t fooled. He hid a small smile with his hand and turned to the side. To hide the motion, he smoothly transitioned to reaching for his pen. “This,” he said, grabbing a napkin, “is my number. You and your Yeerk may have some interest in speaking with us later.”

She tried to discreetly look him over, checking for any signs that he was trying to trick her. It still felt wrong, to be friends with a Yeerk. She felt like she would get caught, but she didn’t know what that would mean.

“Why are you talking to me?” she asked.

“The people who get in here don’t usually have that much sympathy for the imprisoned hosts.”

“People can be jerks,” she said. “Just because I have a conscience doesn’t mean anything about my… parasite.”

He handed her the note. “Think it over. You should know, not everyone thinks of them as parasites.” He winked.

**

Tidwell’s implications baffled Aflin. <We’ve never been friends with our hosts before,> he said after Daniela had gotten him back from the pool. <Not ever in the history of our species. Even now when I talk to the others with Human hosts, we’re supposed to be perfect masters.>

<But I can’t be the only one,> Daniela thought. <We weren’t friends at first either, but we learned to like each other.>

Aflin thought about it for a moment. <We might not be hearing about anyone else because they’re being silenced,> he said. <You almost rushed out to help people today and get in the empire’s way. They wouldn’t want that impulse to be an option.>

Daniela swore. <Even if I don’t get in touch, he knows my face and name.>

<Let’s wait another cycle. They don’t have proof of any kind, and maybe we can get some information.>

**

In the end, they waited 6 days. Then Tidwell approached her after she had left the pool.

“I hope this isn’t interrupting any of your plans,” he said, “but I would really like to have a talk with you about certain views we may share.”

Aflin turned Daniela’s face to stone. “This isn’t philosophy class,” he said coldly. “Say what you want clearly or leave.”

“You’d run away if I said it outright,” Tidwell said. “How about we have this discussion somewhere quiet?”

<The park,> Daniela told Aflin. <We can run if we need to.>

“Let’s go to the park,” Aflin said.

Tidwell agreed. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Aflin 4981.”

“Illim.”

Aflin jerked his head to stare at Illim. No number? 

<That’s like how I call you,> Daniela said.

“My host might have some comments to add as well in this,” Illim continued as if there was nothing odd about that. “He has a lot of opinions on Human-Yeerk relations.”

Aflin stopped at the edge of the park, taking a step back to the edge of the path. “What is this?”

“Your host is voluntary,” Illim said casually, “but not for selfish reasons. We happen to know a few people like her. We thought she might fit in well with our little group.”

“Yes!” Daniela burst out. “Finally, I’ve been looking for someone to talk to about all this! I mean, don’t get me wrong, Aflin’s great, but when it’s just the two of us we get in a bit of a loop…”

<Will you be quiet, there’s a war on,> Aflin hissed at her.

“Aw, Robert’s not a threat,” Daniela said openly.

Tidwell rubbed the bridge of his nose before looking around to be sure no one was close enough to hear them. “I’m not, thank you for that vote of confidence. But please be a little more careful.”

She strode over to playfully hit his shoulder. “Come on, we’ll find a quiet corner and you can tell me all about these other people.”


	3. Joe goes fishing

“You know,” said Joe before tossing back a swig of beer, “I’ve been thinking lately.”

“Oh, no,” said Andy jokingly. “Always a risky thing with you.” He glanced towards his fishing pole as the plumb bobbed in the water, then back to his friend, his elbows lazily hanging over the sides of his seat. 

“Well, see,” Joe started, “I been thinking about aliens. You know, what they’d be like and all. And I got to wondering if they’d be friendly with us. ‘Cause, you know, we aren’t always friendly with each other. So what are they gonna think, they come here and they see all this infighting, what if they turn back?”

Andy hummed. “Well, I guess it would be a loss.”

“You bet it would be a loss!” Joe gestured with his bottle. “Think about it, there’s a bunch of people who’ve got all this fancy technology, right, they can travel across the galaxy. ‘Cause they must have traveled far, ‘cause we know there ain’t nothing on Mars or Mercury.”

“They could be coming from Jupiter,” Andy decided. 

“Naw, no, what would there be on Jupiter,” Joe said. “There’s that giant storm, the whole place is dense dust, gravity is higher… If there were something on Jupiter, we’d be in trouble, y’see, because they’d be stronger, they’d be super different. So how would we communicate?” Joe held a bit tighter to his fishing pole, feeling a slight tug.

Andy made a “I guess” face and nodded his head back and forth. “So you only want to talk about an alien species we can talk to. A hypothetical one.”

“Yeah. Purely hypothetical.”

Andy gave him a side-eye. “You trying to tell me you’ve seen stuff, up in the city?”

“Naw, there ain’t ever anything interesting happening with those city-slickers,” Joe said. “This is just an idea I had.”

“Sure, sure,” Andy said and took a sip of his own beer.

“So imagine these aliens, they can talk with us real easy,” Joe continued. “Not because they have translators, y’see, but because they can get right inside our heads. Literally, like. They crawl up in your ear and they get to your brain and they follow the electrical impulses, they figure out all how to direct them, they learn how to make your body move, they figure out all that you are.”

“Sounds like the body-snatchers,” Andy said.

“Hmm, little bit. But I thought, y’see, what if they could reach deep into your brain, and they could find things that were wrong with it?” Joe wiggled his fingers around his head to illustrate. “Think of them shows, the medical ones, you know when it comes to brain things, it’s all delicate, right, it’s sensitive. If you got a tumour, the doctor has to be careful to cut the right thing, or you lose a whole piece of your memories, or of your basic functioning. Touch the wrong thing and the person stops breathing. 

“But now, of course, we don’t know where the breathing bit is. Or the specific memory of last Tuesday. The brain is such a dense, mushy thing, there’s no real map of it. Even if there were, a doctor can’t really go digging around in there. Can’t risk messing with the wrong noodle.”

Andy winced. “Wouldn’t be pretty.”

“Naw, it really wouldn’t be. But imagine you got this alien, right, they get a grand tour of what a normal brain looks like. They get shown x-rays and CT scans of a regular person’s brain, and other shots of a person with a brain tumour. Then they wriggle in through the ear, and they, nice and easy, pinch off the little nubbin of bad cells, pull it back out, and abracadabra, you got a person who’s cured of brain cancer.”

Andy nodded thoughtfully. “Could work. Can they go to other parts of the body and do the same?”

“Well surgery is a little easier in other body parts, ‘cause they don’t have that big risk of making a mistake like in the brain.”

“Yeah, but, if the little aliens can fit in the brain, which is such a densely packed thing… Have you ever seen the inside of a human skull? The brain is packed in so tightly that it actually leaves an imprint in the bone.” Andy held his hands up close to each other, like he was holding an invisible ball. He mimed squeezing his hands closer together. “There’s already so little space. So if you have these aliens tiny enough to fit there, they’d be safer to have wandering around someone’s body than a scalpel.”

Inside Joe’s head, Efril winced. <I really don’t like the idea of swimming around just anywhere,> he said. <Ugh, where would I even get in and out from!>

“Well you wouldn’t want to force the little guys to swim through blood,” Joe said defensively.

“They’re already covered in brain juice, I don’t see a difference,” Andy shrugged, almost laughing. 

Joe waved him off, annoyed. “Just for that, I’m not sharing my other idea.”

“Ha!” Andy gave a short laugh. “Come on, you’re the one who said they’d be hanging out inside a brain like doctors. Doctors can’t be afraid of blood.”

Joe grumbled, but knew he couldn’t really say much without giving up Efril. So he cracked open another beer and just sighed.

“You know,” Andy finally said after a few minutes of silence, “if they could get into our heads, they could do a lot more than physically alter us.”

“Well I’d thought about that too,” Joe said, turning his head. “I don’t know much about psychology, but it seems to me that if some disorders are caused by chemical imbalances…”

“They’d have access to the chemical regulators,” Andy finished. “Interesting. Sounds like a bit of a double-edged sword, though.”

“Aw, you’re just paranoid cause you’ve been watching too many old sci-fi movies.”

“How about the rest of this hypothetical species’ technology?” Andy asked. “If we’re sticking with a medical theme here.”

“Hard to say. They can travel super far, and pretty fast too, right, because they reach here within their lifetime…”

“Or we assume.”

“We assume,” Joe corrected. “Better ambulances?”

“Hm, we can do better,” Andy mused. “Hormone therapy?”

“How’s your wife, speaking of?”

“Oh, good, good. The doctor says we might be ready for a kid soon,” Andy said with a new smile in his eyes.

Joe smiled back. “Well, see, the Yeerks mighta helped that along too.”

“The what?”

Joe pursed his lips. <Oops,> Efril commented.

“You’re getting in with those tabletop gamers, aren’t you?” Andy asked with a grin. “I knew you were hiding something.”

“Heh, well…” Joe stuttered, trying to figure out how to answer without giving more away.

“It’s fine,” Andy said with a wave. “I’m glad you found a friend group, out in the city. Jennifer and I worry about you out there alone. Not much of a sense of community.” He focused his attention back to his fishing rod as both started to wobble with a bite.

“Yeah,” Joe said, half-distracted as he pulled up a fish on his end. “We talk about all kinds of weird aliens and things.”

<No offense taken,> Efril said dryly.

**

They ended up catching a few fish each. On the walk back their cars, Joe offered most of his fish. “Yeah, it’s a long ride back home and I don’t have much room in my cooler. Can’t have my car smelling of warm fish.”

Andy clapped him on the back. “You’re a good friend. We’ll see you at the barbecue in a couple weeks?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Oh, and Joe?”’

Joe paused with his hand on his door handle. “Yeah?”

Andy smiled. “You know that any friend of yours is a friend of mine, yeah?”

Joe smiled back. “Yeah.” 

<And maybe someday he’ll really prove that,> he thought to Efril.


	4. The Librarian and the Andalites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marnie wants to leave well enough alone, but this is war after all: first, she doesn't have a choice, and second, doing nothing could be worse. Meanwhile, Zomni chooses to acknowledge some hard truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Andalites in this chapter appear only once (with some brief mentions later) in book 40. So some of you might not remember them, but they are canon with the books. There's not a *lot* of canon to work with, however, so I will be making up a lot of random details. I've got the wiki page as a permanent fixture on my screen for this, so if I make any mistakes, I do apologise. Blame the caffeine. And the power trip that comes with writing.

Marnie started her day getting told off by her teenage son for trying to make a joke. Traffic was heavy, as usual. The coffee in the break room was cold. Her boss making passive little remarks about disorganised shelves, which she had fixed just yesterday, pushed her right to the edge of her patience.

So when a disheveled patron came into her library and stumbled over his words as he asked for the science section, looking every bit like a mad Doctor Frankenstein who had rushed out of his lab to fact-check one last detail before re-animating a corpse, she had to bite her lip especially hard to keep from making a comment. 

As she watched him walk away, trying not to stare, Dot walked up. “Odd one, isn’t he?” she giggled.

Marnie spun, eager for some pleasant gossip. “You’ve seen him before?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t,” Dot said. “He must be an immigrant, from that accent of his. He didn’t seem to know how libraries work either, but he’s clearly very educated.”

Marnie hummed contemplatively. “Do you know what country?”

“Oh I never ask unless they offer,” Dot said quickly.

Marnie smiled, knowing Dot to be the kind of talkative that gets people to relax and tell her things. She must have gotten some clues.

Dot teetered back and forth. “Fine,” she said. “I know it must be Eastern European. A lot of very smart, educated people from there have such odd habits. A result of communism, I suppose. He knows how to garden, and Katherine from the nursery says that he’s been going down, asking a lot of very detailed questions. Even about soil acidity,” she said, clearly impressed. “It sounds like he’s got a good garden going.”

When he came back with his stack of books, some about physics, some about geology, Marnie checked his card as she stamped the return dates. “Henry McClellan,” it said. Not a very Eastern European name. He had a habit of looking all around him when he was standing still, but she didn’t think he was paranoid; just that he was insanely curious, like a small kid.

He thanked her with a halting trill and left.

**

Over the next couple of weeks, he would come back every few days for a new stack of books to replace the ones that he’d, apparently, already finished reading. Marnie finally couldn’t help commenting when he came up with the large university-level textbooks.

“How are you actually reading all these so fast?” she asked, hefting the 700-page brick to her scanner.

He shifted back and forth. “Is there a problem with that?” he asked, nervous.

“Oh, no, no,” she said quickly, “I’ve certainly heard of savants who could speed-read. I’ve just never met one in person.” She handed the book back, watching him drop it into his bag. “And that’s some complicated stuff. Do you really understand all of it?”

He smiled. “Of course. I’d learned most of this years ago. Though, I have wondered…” he hesitated. “Is it possible to make corrections if I notice an error?”

Marnie huffed a laugh. He couldn’t be serious.

He stared at her, not understanding.

Maybe he was serious.

“Well,” Marnie hedged, “I suppose you could write to the author of the book and recommend that they make changes.”

“Can I make changes directly in this, though?” He held up his bag.

“We, ah, usually don’t like people to write in our books.”

“Ah, so these are actually comments from the author?” he said, pulling it back out of his bag and flipping to a page. Someone had written “whyyyyy” in pencil in the margin of a very long equation.

“We don’t like it, but it often ends up happening,” Marnie added wryly. 

Henry stared at it, evidently trying to figure out why someone would whine about math.

Marnie took pity on him. “You can always take notes on a separate piece of paper,” she tried. “And leave the pieces of paper inside the book when you return it. That way the next person can decide for themselves if your notes were helpful.”

Henry made a face that made it clear what he thought of anyone who wouldn’t take his notes seriously. But he conceded. “An interesting idea,” he said.

**

Marnie ended up being late for diner two days later, when her boss asked her to attend a conference about the Sharing. “We might want them to help us out with funding,” she said. “They’ve got a lot of kids interested, we might get enough attention from them to justify some new books.”

That afternoon, a roomful of members of local charities and social programs were infested. Marnie screamed as loudly as she could, but the room had been soundproofed.

No one came to rescue her as her head was plunged under the sludge. 

**

“Here are your books, have a nice day,” Zomni 4375 said through Marnie’s mouth. Her smile was a little forced; Marnie hadn’t learned to be quiet yet and was giving her a headache.

“Hard day?” someone asked as they got to the check-out counter.

“Yeah,” Zomnie replied, looking up at Henry. Marnie wailed louder, suddenly scared that Henry could also be a Controller. Zomnie checked out his books without saying much, slowly making some connections based on Marnie’s memories. And he was standing right there, checking out texts on advanced mathematics, glancing around like he was used to a wider peripheral vision…

Zomni tried not to react until he left, then looked in the drop-box. He had indeed returned the textbook he’d borrowed barely a couple of days ago, and as she flipped through it, a couple of loose papers caught her eye. 

Among the corrections to heavy equations, she could recognise something that was used in z-space travel.

<You’ve been talking to an Andalite this whole time!> she mentally shouted to Marnie.

<A what?> Marnie said, reeling. <There’s more of you?!>

Zomnie dismissed her, shoving her consciousness to the back of her mind. This was monumental. Of course the Andalite bandits would be doing research, the better to blend in and fight. But they were terrible at it; “Henry” had been so obvious that even the idiot Humans noticed he was different.

Zomnie knew what to do, of course. She had to report him, have him and his associates turned into Controllers. A quick and easy win to the war on Earth. No one would be left to fight them!

<Don’t you dare take him, you parasite!> Marnie howled, mentally trying to claw her way back up to control.

Zomni hummed pleasantly. <Oh, but why not,> she thought back maliciously. <I could trade you for him!>

So rather than give him up outright, Zomni decided to wait until he came back, then follow him to his secret base.

**

An easy thing to do, in theory. Take her break when he came by, pop out for a few minutes…

<So I didn’t think this through,> she admitted to Marnie as they watched a bird fly out the alley he’d popped into barely a few minutes ago.

<Where do the books go?> Marnie wondered idly, then mentally bit her lip for helping.

Zomni grinned. She made a show of turning around and walking away, only to hide around a corner.

Barely a minute later, Henry poked his head out, looking around carefully, and continued on his way.

<What’s the point of following him?> Marnie asked for the hundredth time. <Just leave the poor man be. Even if he is an Andalite, he’s obviously just trying to figure out how to live here. There’s not a lot of them, you said. Their ship crashed here, they’re stranded. Have some sympathy.>

<If I get a new host, I’ll leave your head,> Zomni said snarkily. <Isn’t that what you want?>

<I don’t care,> Marnie said, exhausted from repeating herself and not being listened to. <I wouldn’t be free anyway. At least he could be.>

<He wouldn’t do the same for you,> Zomni reminded her. <Andalites have no scruples. They don’t care about…>

<No no, finish your thought,> Marnie pressed. <The Andalite bandits who are freeing Humans, those guys don’t care about anyone but themselves?>

Zomni bit her lip, annoyed. <I could really do without your sarcasm.>

<But you’d prefer to be in his scruple-less head.>

<Don’t try to use a motherly tone on me, Human,> Zomni bit out. <We aren’t trained to fear parental figures.>

<Oh, fear isn’t the goal in good parenting…> Marnie said smugly. <It’s guilt.>. Zomni chose to ignore her.

Henry walked for another half hour, towards the tree line.

<We’re going to get fired from my job,> Marnie warned. <This break is going on too long.>

Zomni was too gleefully sure she had found the Andalite stronghold to care. Discreetly she followed through the trees, keeping back far enough that even when Marnie tried to twitch and make her stumble, they still weren’t caught.

After about 20 minutes, Henry took a moment to demorph in a thick cluster of trees and ran ahead. 

Zomni wasn’t too worried; she could hear water from here. They must be close.

A few careful steps later, Zomni quickly crouched behind a thicket and watched quietly as “Henry” chatted with a second Andalite in private thought-speak. There were only two, so she would have to be careful in case the others showed up from behind her. She scooted under the branches as deep as she could without scratching herself too badly.

But something was wrong here.

<The other one’s tail is missing,> Marnie noticed at the same time.

<He should have grown it back when he morphed,> Zomni thought.

<Maybe he can’t morph?>

Zomni felt her heart drop in disappointment, but bounced back quickly. <There are at least 6 others who could serve as useful hosts,> she thought smugly. 

They sat there through the whole evening, waiting for anyone else to appear. Or for the two in the clearing to do something, give up a weakness Zomni could exploit. <All they do is read,> Zomni thought with disdain.

<You could stand to read, too,> Marnie thought back, poking absently at some memories to pass the time. <Maybe if you’d tried to be more focused on Human culture, we wouldn’t be stuck under this bush in the middle of the woods.> At that moment she realised how late it was. Zomni felt an instinctive fear in her host’s body kick in. <We shouldn’t be in the woods at night,> Marnie said.

<Your worst fear shouldn’t be about being eaten, Human. It should be that our head gets chopped off when they realise what we are.>

<This is what blind ambition gets you,> Marnie started ranting. <If you had just spent time thinking before running off into the damn woods…>

<Then someone else would have caught these bandits,> Zomni insisted, but without any strength to her words. 

<Terrifying bandits,> Marnie snarked. <Reading textbooks.>

<They have to sleep eventually, we can escape then,> Zomni said.

<Sure, fine, sure,> Marnie said. <Then we go home, tell my kids that mommy had a bad day and possibly lost her job for leaving in the middle of the day, reassure my husband that I wasn’t kidnapped, and tomorrow we can go beg for my job back.>

<And come back again, knowing where to find them…>

<You need to…> Marnie pulled herself back, knowing that she would be wasting her energy trying to stop her. <At least focus on getting us out of here alive first.>

Right as the sun was setting, the Andalites retreated to their crashed spaceship, which had been hidden under foliage until then. Zomni perked up, sensing an even better opportunity than before.

The ship, from the outside, seemed only big enough for the two of them, if that. Andalites liked lots of open space, Zomni remembered. One of her friends in the pool, who was a member of the Visser’s guard, had mentioned that before. 

Once the hatch was closed and hidden, Zomni silently crept up. <What are you doing?> Marnie hissed. <Let’s go!>

Zomni ignored her and got closer. There were pots hidden under an awning made by branches, placed carefully so the plants inside could get sunlight without being obvious from afar. <From the Andalite homeworld,> Zomni guessed. The species didn’t look like anything from Earth, with its bright colours and odd shapes.

She raised her hand to lift a branch, maybe there was a window she could peak in through. They hadn’t said anything outright all evening, but now that they were hidden away they might bring out schematics or weapons, something that she could use to guess their plans without being able to hear them.

There was indeed a window, but all she saw was the two of them staring at each other. 

<They’re a couple,> Marnie said immediately.

<No, how could you possibly know…> The Andalite with no tail reached up and caressed Henry’s cheek.

<Ok, I see what you mean.>

<Let’s just go.>

**

Zomni had stumbled in through her front door around nearly midnight. Marnie’s husband jumped up from his chair near the phone and rushed to hug her close. “Are you ok?” he said as he pulled back to look her over. He took in the scratches all over her arms, the scab of a deep scratch over her neck, and her muddied shoes. “Do you need the hospital? What happened?”

“An accident,” Zomni said, trying to brush it off. “I… tried to help a patron, and ended up walking farther than I thought. I’m ok though.”

He wouldn’t hear it, and dragged her through a whole process of patching her up and asking her questions about where she’d been. Fortunately, Zomni could steal from Marnie’s ideas of lies that would work on George, but unfortunately, George was more perceptive than she was good at lying.

He didn’t press. But Marnie knew he wouldn’t let it go forever. <You’ll get caught,> she taunted.

Zomni angrily shoved her into a deep sleep and went to bed, but she couldn’t get her mind to rest. Something had been nagging at her since she’d arrived on this planet; these people weren’t the Gedd. Like Marnie had implied all evening, something about this invasion felt more intrusive than she was comfortable with.

Most Yeerks would agree that they were helping the Humans by coming here. Yes, there was the obvious intent, that they needed hosts. This planet had plenty to spare, and extra Yeerks had been brought in to take over the whole place. Zomni’s people had began saying that they were doing it “for their own good”, helping the Humans by bringing them out of their savage ways and giving them new technology. These people barely even had space travel!

But that didn’t sit right with her, after today. She liked the idea about as much as she’d liked sitting in the patch of brambles. 

There was a new idea emerging, since they’d discovered the Hork Bajir world. It was easy to assume the Gedd would have been useless without the Yeerks to do something with their bodies. And the Taxxon were so driven by primal urges, it was hard to see them as civilised. Of course, the Andalite colonisers had a savage lack of empathy for anyone else; every Yeerk knew that. But the Hork Bajir, as simple as they usually were, had some quiet dignity in their lives. There was something to respect there, something that made the idea of them as independant beings more real.

It was a trait that Humans seemed to share. Zomni had heard a lot of stories while she’d been waiting for a host. One idea that was beginning to make rounds was the concept of symbiotic relationships. Where Yeerk and host co-existed peacefully.

There were rumours that that was how the voluntary hosts had earned themselves a special room without cages. 

Zomni spent hours lying perfectly still, trying to make sense of her thoughts. Eventually she woke up Marnie.

<What is it, dear?> Marnie asked instinctively.

<Can we talk?> Zomni asked.

**

They walked into work the next morning and Zomni tried to be pleasant as she explained why she had been gone so long. “I had a bit of an accident during my break yesterday,” she said, without elaborating. Marnie taught her that kids always get caught lying when they embellish their stories.

Mrs. McMasters looked her up and down, noticing the scabbed-over scrapes. “Try to be more careful of yourself,” she said gruffly before turning back to the stack of books on her desk.

They took that to mean that they weren’t fired, and got to shelving. 

<So tell me again why Humans suddenly might deserve freedoms,> Marnie said as she recited the alphabet in an undertone.

<Well I don't really know that yet,> Zokni said, <which is why I need you to explain it to me.>

<Like how I explained it before, you know, by screaming about how horrible it was to not be allowed to hug my own children? Maybe?>

<I don't actually need to listen to you...>

<Fine, I apologise. For implying that you made me a slave. I should have started on a lower accusation. Like maybe race supremacy.>

Zomni chose to ignore her for a while, deciding that Marnie was wrong... but then remembered being called dear that morning. It had been nice.

<I'll listen, but first you have to tell me I'm not actually as bad as you thought.>

<Which part, the slavery? That hasn't changed. The sense of condescension when you talk to me? The...>

<I got it, thanks.>

<And you still think the Andalites are horrible, even though the only one we've ever met is very sweet.>

<Don't defend him, you don't know what they've done.>

<Henry won't even write in a library book.>

<He wanted to.>

<He listened when I said no. Unlike you.>

<It's their fault we're even in a war.>

<The Germans started WWII, but no one thinks all Germans are nazis.>

<You can't possibly have an answer to everything.>

<Check my memory. I've been here long enough to earn that librarian title.>

**

It took a week before they saw Henry again. In the meantime they had spent most of their time fighting over philosophy and ethics, for which they had searched out dozens of books and articles. Zomni had had to concede on a few points, and Marnie had learned a lot about the intergalactic war she'd gotten dragged into. Their argument that day was over information sourcing.

<Propaganda can be a useful tool, but you have to think about who is using it,> Marnie insisted again. <Think about what narrative they're trying to sell you on.>

<And I'm telling you, we get most of our information from the source,> Zomni said with the calm of someone repeating themselves to a 5-year-old. <Our parent's memories get transferred directly to us, and our friends share memory signals through touch. It's not something that can be tampered with.>

<Are you sure though, because you're a very good liar for being from a species that's completely truthful.>

<Just because I lie to your family...>

That was when Henry walked up. "Still having a hard day?"

"Just a hard conversation," Zomni said without thinking. "I mean," she scrambled, "I was chatting with someone earlier and I keep going over some points in my head."

<Good save,> Marnie thought with a laugh.

"Oh, what's the topic?" Henry asked.

"What makes information reliable." Zomni had a sudden thought. "How would you choose to trust what you hear?"

Henry got pensive. "Is this not a place that holds only facts?"

"We don't hold onto anything that is intentionally misleading," Zomni said, quoting Marnie. "But there's more than... one truth..." she trailed off, realising what Marnie could have meant. "There's more than one way of looking at things."

Henry lifted his bag over his shoulder. "It sounds like you've just realised something."

"Yes..." Zomni stared at him. 

He smiled. "When I am not sure what to believe, I try to hear more sides of a story. Usually something stands out."

Zomni nodded slowly. "That does make sense."

**

<We need to tell him,> Zomni said later.

<I agree that he needs to know that he's identifiable, but he only ever comes to the library. None of your kind tend to stop in here.>

<It's only a matter of time.>

<Your opinion is a little biased here.>

<You're curious too.>

<Think of how that conversation would go. "Hi, I know you're an Andalite, definitely not because I'm actually your enemy, and I'd like to talk about how this war started.">

<No, we can admit to being a Controller at this point.>

<Wonderful. Can I move my limbs independently now, too?>

Zomni let go of control over her right arm. Marnie was surprised, but she wiggled it experimentally.

<...Thank you.>

<I'm not a monster.>

<Jury is still out.>

**

The hard part was getting Henry to stick around for an extra couple of hours so they could talk during Marnie’s lunch break. He was instantly suspicious. 

“What could we have to talk about?” he demanded.

“Let’s say it’s a late fee, and keep your voice down,” Zomni said. “You and I both know there aren’t just Humans in town.”

He snapped his mouth shut. Slowly, he nodded his head once and went to a reading desk close to the exit where he could see everyone and still have room to run.

Marnie watched him go. <Are we sure he’ll be ok with this?>

<He doesn’t need to know right away that we aren’t a simple Human,> Zomni said casually. <The better to lure him into my trap.>

<We talked about this, you don’t need to keep pretending.>

<A lifetime of habits don’t disappear overnight,> Zomni said defensively.

**

The conversation wasn't easy. Zomni didn't outright say she was a Controller, but he figured it out quickly. He also figured out that she was pretty much harmless.

"You've known since last week, when you asked me how I knew what was true, didn't you?" His stance was defensive, but his tone was conversational.

Zomni resisted Marnie's impulse to cough awkwardly. "...Well, actually a bit before that."

"Why didn't you send Controllers after me?"

<Just let me talk,> Marnie said, seeing how uncomfortable Zomni was.

"Thanks," Zomni whispered before passing control over to her host.

Marnie twitched her mouth for a moment before she began talking. Henry's eyebrows shot up. 

"Yeah, she gave me back my body," Marnie told him. "She didn't send Controllers after you because, at first, she wanted to steal you for herself."

Henry tensed and started looking around, then immediately sank into a loose-limbed pose. The reflexive control of a warrior. "You are unarmed."

"She's not exactly an evil mastermind,” Marnie said wryly.

<Hey!>

"And she's had a long time to think," Marnie continued. "Could we hear your side of how the war began?"

He tilted his head. "Why does that matter to you?"

"Because we're not convinced that you're as evil as the Visser makes you out to be."

He scowled. "The Yeerks were the betrayers. We came in peace to their world..."

"And I'm sure those were your intentions, but maybe you can see how there could have been a disconnect at some point. You said yourself, it's good to hear multiple sides of the same story."

He conceded. "Fine. But I want to talk to you, not the Yeerk."

"Her name is Zomni," Marnie said without blinking.

He scowled again but didn't say anything.

**

"Oh, before I forget," Marnie said as he was leaving. She grabbed a bag and handed it to him. "You were obviously foreign, even when I didn't know actual aliens were here. Zomni recognised you immediately. These are some things that could help you blend in a bit better."

"...Thank you," he said, unsure. 

"And next time you come by, we can talk about getting you better organised. As you are now, any Controller who meets you on the street can follow you home," she said with a meaningful look.

Henry stared back at her, then slowly turned back to the door and strode out.

<That might have been too strong,> Marnie said. <Now he'll be all paranoid.>

<You needed to let him know,> Zomni said. She hesitated. <Thanks for sticking up for me.>

Marnie moved her hands freely. <Thanks for giving me back my body. Can I keep it?>

Zomni could hear the ironic undertone, and backed down uncomfortably. <Yes,> she said. <I won't take back control. I guess... I guess I should... stay in the pool next time.> She stared out through her eyes, taking in the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

Marnie took pity. <If you had asked, I could have shared.>

Zomni perked up. <You'll let me stay?>

<You can't just leave me _now_ , there's a war and I have no idea what's happening.>

<I'll be the best guide, I promise!> she said excitedly.

Marnie snorted. <We still have some boundaries to work out.>

<Of course.>

<And if you drag me out into the woods again, I'm leaving you there.>

<...fair enough.>

<And Zomni, I didn't say this before, but... welcome to Earth.>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to finish this earlier, but more of the story kept popping up in my head, and I didn't want to rush Zomni too much. Like she said, it takes time to work through a new world view.


	5. Hiding Andalites

“We need a place to hide two Andalites,” said Marnie to the people around the table. "For one, they can't stay out where they could be caught, and for two... for the Yeerks in the room... if they get caught, we get caught for not reporting on them sooner." Daniela nodded, absolutely on board with saving someone; Tidwell had a thoughtful look on his face; Joe was tapping his fingers on his arm; and Amy had her head in her hands, seemingly not really listening.

“Where can we put them?” Giffi asked through her mouth. “One of them can’t morph. They’re limited in how well they can sneak around town.”

“Well the forest isn’t going to be a safe place for much longer. The Visser keeps sending troops in there for those ridiculous new schemes he keeps plotting…” Zomni crossed Marnie’s arms and sat back. “We need to get them either very far away, or we need to get them to blend in here.”

“Send them far then,” Daniela said. “Ours is the only town that’s being invaded so far. They’d be safe in, I don’t know…” “Any of the southern countries,” Aflin interjected. “They’d need a place where grass grows year-round, so a warm place.”

“What visa do we travel with?” Joe said.

Daniela winced. “Their ship doesn’t move anymore, does it?”

Marnie shook her head.

Tidwell looked up. “Well, we can’t travel far with an Andalite in a trailer. There would still be a risk of getting stopped by Human police.”

Joe nodded. “News would travel fast back to our police.”

“Gafinilan can still morph. He’s been good so far at keeping himself discreet.” Tidwell leaned his arms on the table. “We could get him to hide in plain sight, and use his apparent normalcy as a cover for Mertil. We could get them a house with a large backyard.”

“They’d see him from the air,” Amy said.

“A house with a large covered garden?” said Marnie.

“A suburb,” said Joe. “That’s the only place we’d find something like that.”

“A suburb with a neighbourhood watch,” Marnie cautioned.

“Not if it’s a new neighbourhood,” said Joe.

“…There’s a new subdivision being built not far from here,” Amy said. “The yards go right up to a line of dense trees, they didn’t bother bulldozing those.”

Tidwell nodded. “We could get them settled in a house at the very end of the lane, with fewer neighbours to peak in.” 

“Add some extra-tall fences… Or even full buildings. I’d assume they need a lot of outdoor space.”

“But add roofs. Can we do that?” Tidwell asked Joe.

Joe smiled back. “I know a couple of guys who would do me a solid.”

“Then it’s settled,” said Marnie. “Daniela, you and Aflin are personable enough to meet them. Let’s go.”

**

Gafinilan was not on board with the idea. <We do not like closed spaces,> he said. <We're not moving.>

"Yeah, I know you're stubborn," Zomni snarked, "but even you have to know the Visser will get you eventually if you stay here." "Please let us help you," Marnie added, more gently.

<Do you do that on purpose?> Gafinilan said with a sneer. <It is very unsettling.>

"There's two people in here, get used to it," Zomni growled.

"While those two stare each other down," Daniela said with raised eyebrows, turning to Mertil, "how about you tell us what you think? We can set you up with a nice garden, you wouldn't have as much space as you do here but it would still be, you know, safe."

Mertil stared at her. <It is odd that you would care about our safety,> he said. <You are Controllers.>

"Yes," Daniela said slowly, wondering if it would be smart to let Aflin speak up. She had no idea what to say.

"You're not my enemy," said Aflin. "Our leaders may not get along, but you are not my enemy."

Daniela felt her shoulders relax as Mertil seemed to accept this. <Nice one,> she thought to her symbiote. 

<This one wants to be my enemy!> said Gafinilan. Zomni gritted her teeth.

"Nah, don't worry, Zomni is just Like That," Daniela said with a shrug and a defeated twist of her mouth. "Amy says she'll eventually figure out how to make friends."

"I don't want to be..." Zomni hissed before Marnie interrupted. "Ignore her, she still thinks she's tough. I am!" Zomni jumped back in. Marnie shrugged. "She means well, she just doesn't know how to be nice yet."

Gafinilan stared at her with all four eyes. <Very unsettling,> he said.

"Yeah, she hasn't figured out how to not be racist around Andalites. But we've all had a moment like that, we come around with time." Daniela waved her hand. "Aflin thinks you're cool."

<Does he?> Mertil said with a small hint of a smile in his eyes.

"Oh yeah, it's why Marnie invited me in the first place," Daniela said. "To counter that." She jerked her thumb back at a irrate Zomni. Marnie's eyes were shuttered, clearly having a conversation with her symbiote.

Mertil looked at them thoughtfully and glanced an eye towards Gafinilan. They were silent for a few moments, during which Aflin had to take over so Daniela wouldn't fidget so much. 

<I want to see what this 'suburbia' looks like first,> said Gafinilan. <If it's not what we need, we'll take the risk of staying here.>

**

Of course, Gafinilan picked at a lot of details. Small things with easy fixes, or things that Daniela could clearly tell weren't actually that important to him.

<He just wants an excuse to not trust us,> she thought petulantly to Aflin.

<I don't blame him,> he said thoughtfully. <I'm still having trouble trusting him myself. If Zomni hadn't promised that she'd checked on him before and that he wasn't one of the bandits who have been fighting us, I wouldn't be so inclined to like them either.>

<You know those bandits are only helping us, right?>

He decided not to argue, but she could tell he didn't really agree with her.

"This will be acceptable, especially if we can build the garden as you show here," Gafinilan said to Joe, who was holding a blueprint.

"Oh, that'll be easy-peasy," Joe said. "I even took a look around the property, and we might be able to bring in part of your spaceship. Marnie says it's about yay-big?" He gestured to the edges of the garage wall in front of them.

"Yes, the part we would most need would be only half of that," Gafinilan said. "We can bring that in secretly?"

Joe nodded. "I know a guy."

**

Tidwell had some contacts at the university who were looking for a new physics professor, and Amy, being an arts student there, figured out how to forge a couple of diplomas from an imaginary school with "Henry's" name on them, along with references to call.

"Just sit by the phone and when they call, you say what's on this script," she said, handing a list to Marnie. "You've got the most 'secretary of a prestigious place' voice in the group."

Within the week, Mertil and the main room of the spaceship had been moved to the large house on the end of the block, "Henry" had a new job and a reputation that would keep him from being too suspicious in the community (as well as to help pay off the mortgage, because there was only so much their small group could donate for a suburban house) and they were all feeling extra proud of themselves. 

"I can't believe we managed to sneak two entire aliens into town like that," said Daniela. Zomni gave her a withering look.

"That means we're safe for a bit longer," said Amy. "If they don't get caught, we don't get caught."

"I can't believe they were so... easy to talk to," Efril said through Joe's mouth. "I'd always heard they were the most arrogant creatures in the galaxy."

"That's something I've been trying to discuss with Zomni," said Marnie. "There may have been a propaganda campaign to make them seem that way, so the council of thirteen could gain power in the war."

"Which is why our actions are very, very illegal, and we need to be more careful than ever," Illim warned. "The Visser won't be lenient with dissenters."

"Bah, he's stupid anyway," said Daniela. "He won't notice, and even if anyone else does, they won't tell on us. No one likes him."

"All it takes is one," said Amy softly.

They stayed quiet until Marnie broke the tension. "Game night with the boys?" she said.

"You can't call Andalite warriors 'the boys'," Daniela said with a laugh.

"I've got Jenga and Stratego at home, I'll join you in a few minutes," Joe said, already walking towards his car.

"I can bring snacks!" said Daniela.

Tidwell and Illim smiled together. Maybe this partnership could work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is worried about Gafinilan being more temperamental at some points, it's because he has a disease that's very painful when he's in his own Andalite body. Morphing to Human takes off some of the edge and makes him a little more pleasant (in my head).  
> And I love the idea of Gafinilan becoming a professor by using pro-level bullshitting skills, because how else would he have gotten away with not having any published thesis, no diploma, no record of any kind, and yet somehow, because he *acts* like the embodiment of every quirky, distracted, overly-smart professor, he got in. Like somebody looked at this beautiful-mind-type, writing away on a blackboard, and went "yup, no credentials needed, he's the real deal." I 100% believe this to be canon.


	6. Building Controllers

“Guys, you need to hear this. Aflin just got back from the pool and he heard something interesting.” Daniela barged into Tidwell’s home, barely pausing as she got to his kitchen. “Oh, by the way, no one else is here, right?”

Tidwell pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Just kidding,” she grinned, “Aflin knew you were alone in here.” She sat down at the counter. “I do listen when you tell me to be careful.” “Barely,” added Aflin.

Tidwell smiled at them despite himself. “So what did you hear?”

“Visser 1 is back, and they will be hosting a new species on Earth,” Aflin began. “An intelligent species native to Leera. Ever heard of them?”

That species wasn’t familiar to either Tidwell of Illim. He shook his head.

“They’re mind-readers,” Aflin explained. “An aquatic species of mind-readers. They kind of look like squid,” Daniela added. “They have a technology that’s not quite as advanced as the Andalite morphing ability, but they still have a strong understanding of genetics.” Aflin leaned forward and made what he said next as clear as possible, “They're going to help the Visser create a new breed of underwater hosts.”

Illim stared at him. “That’s impossible…” Except no, it wasn’t. Bio-engineering the perfect host species had been a back-burner sort of project for a long time, only everyone had become so involved in the invasion of different planets that no one brought it up recently. Illim's mind raced and Tidwell struggled to keep up with his thought process; after a few seconds they both came to the conclusion that this was going to be a game-changer for their little group of subversives.

"...Efril and Joe will want to hear about this," Illim said. "This was something we'd talked about before. Tell me everything you heard."

“I didn't hear much, because this is second-hand. There’s only a couple of Humans involved in the project, only enough to be inconspicuous about it to locals, and most of them have been out on an island for the past few weeks.”

“Weeks. This is already started?”

Aflin nodded. "There was speculation that they'd already gotten something viable."

“This is worth discussing in the group,” Tidwell said. “We need to know if these are willing hosts who could take some of the pressure off Humans.”

**

“We can't let it happen,” Joe said. 

“Aww, but we might end the war this way! Yeerks wouldn’t need to take Human hosts anymore.” Daniela finished her sentence, but Aflin was already reminding her why she was wrong.

“We need Humans as a direct counter to the Andalites,” he said out loud. “We need your planet as a base, and we need your technology. We aren’t going to get that without taking Human hosts.”

“So Yeerks still keep some Humans, but maybe there wouldn't be as much need to go around kidnapping hosts?” asked Marnie.

"They might start grabbing us faster," Amy said. "If they think they have an edge over the Andalites, even an edge over us… We all know the only reason the war is still discreet is because Humanity would draw it out badly if we knew." She took a breath. "If they have that edge, the war on Earth ends sooner, and not in our favour. And then our planet gets nerfed."

Marnie shifted uncomfortably. Amy was usually so quiet; her sudden fervor was making this more real.

“We can’t get too close anyway,” Joe said. “They have mind readers, and we don’t even know their range. Or how deep their mind-reading goes. If any one of us get too close, we all get taken down.”

“We can’t risk it,” said Marnie quickly. “We have Andalites on our side. They may not be the bandits who are actively being the Visser's enemies, but they’re still our friends. We can’t risk them by risking ourselves.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here,” Tidwell said gently. “All we know is they're trying to build these hosts. And we need to think of what we would actually be able to do, if we had to do something about it. First, how dangerous is this really?"

They stood silently for moment.

“…If, if this is worst case scenario," began Giffi, "we would still need Human hosts. We might kill most of the Humans we have now, keeping only the ones we need and disposing of any loose ends who could reveal our existence. The Visser is terrible at this stealth war and he knows it; as soon as he has enough class 5 hosts, he will speed through the Earth invasion. A lot would get destroyed, people would die, faster than the Andalites could react to. And even if the Andalites could react quickly, they're...” he sneered through Amy's face, "they'd destroy this whole planet to destroy the new hosts."

Everyone took in a sharp breath.

“So we need to stop this,” Daniela said with a frown. She bit out her next words, looking away as she said it; “We need to keep them interested in Human hosts."

“We need to keep our own people enslaved in order to save our lives,” said Amy.

Marnie breathed an ironic laugh.

An uncomfortable silence held for a few seconds before Daniela tried to bring up a discussion they’d had before; “The Yeerks are afraid to fight Humans head-on because they know they’d lose, why don’t we just…”

“We’ve been over this,” Illim interrupted. “We can’t tell the media we’re here because then it’ll be an all-out war. We need enough leverage to mitigate the fall-out before we reveal anything.”

Daniela grumbled under her breath, but let it go.

“So we agree that this needs to not happen," said Tidwell. "The next step, I suppose, would be to figure out how we can stop it."

"We can't get close. So how do we do that?" Marnie asked.

"There might be a way," Amy said. "We know the Andalite bandits have someone on the inside because of how well they plan their attacks. We could get the information to them, and have them do the work for us."

Daniela frowned. "That's sneaky."

Amy shrugged. "It might seem like a bitch move, but they have less to hide than we do. They don't have real-world identities to keep secret."

"Unless they're hiding in plain sight, like Gafinilan," said Marnie. "I don't like this."

"We could choose to do nothing," offered Tidwell as a way to calm them before it led to an argument. Illim continued, "We don't have the tech to properly make a whole new species. Even if the Leerans could make it happen, there's no way it would be fast."

Aflin shook his head. "They're not starting from scratch. The one I got the information from didn't understand it well enough to explain it to me, but from what I could gather, the current tests are so promising that they're thinking of handing out the new hosts soon."

"They're grafting," Joe said. "They're adding grafts of some kind to animals already on this planet?"

Aflin nodded. "It seems so."

"Do we know..."

"Sharks," Aflin said. 

"That couldn't work," Marnie said. "They'd be stuck in water. Who could they conquer with that?"

"The people of Leera," said Amy wryly. "The Leeran hosts are helping them build a species that could conquer their own planet."

Daniela bit her lip, but Aflin spoke through anyway; "Then Earth isn't their main concern right now. We don't need to act."

Marnie visibly backed down, probably thinking of her kids who still needed her around. Amy's face had blanked, clearly discussing all this with Giffi. Joe frowned, unhappy with that statement, but not enough to disagree with it.

In the silence, Tidwell cleared his throat. "I think it's time to decide what, exactly, we want from this little group. We've already commit treason," said Illim, "and every time we say things against the Yeerk empire, we commit mind crimes. We're not supposed to be talking with our hosts so easily."

"It feels wrong to do otherwise," said Giffi. Aflin and Effril nodded.

"We've all had moral qualms about a lot of this," continued Illim. "We all acknowledge that our current leadership is more cruel than it needs to be. So what do we really want? This war is going to end eventually, one way or another. What do we want to see when that day comes?"

None of them could look each other in the eyes for a while. "There's only so much we can do..." said Marnie.

"But you're right," said Joe. "We need to pick where we stand, and plant our feet firm. We can't throw the Leerans to the wolves just ‘cause it don't hurt us now."

"Alerting the Andalite bandits won't be too difficult, if they truly have a mole," said Tidwell, directing his reassurance to Marnie especially. "All we'd need to do is talk openly about it at the pool."

"So long as the Visser isn't doing a spot check that day," Joe said with a long-suffering tone. 

"This could be a way into the rebellion," Amy said with sudden realisation. "If their mole can find us this time, we'll have that connection for next time."

Daniela grinned. "We're becoming real rebels."

**

It took nearly two weeks until they heard about the explosion off the coast. On the same day, Tidwell received a letter, typed, with no name, saying simply "Mailboxes can hold many secrets. And usually with more security than open spaces."

From that point on, the Yeerk Peace Movement left notes for the rebels in Tidwell's mailbox.


	7. A New Recruit

Sam was nervous. She absently crossed and uncrossed her legs, and glanced around the park again. 

Amy had asked to meet her to discuss a plot that was “happening right under their noses”, she’d said, and that she needed Sam’s help. For what reasons, Sam couldn’t even begin to fathom. She was a wimpy student; she could talk about society and government all day, but if you’d asked her what was happening in her town, she’d mostly have to shrug. Who has time to look up on their own town?

So Sam sat, fidgeting, and resisted the impulse to chew on her thumbnail until Amy came up behind her.

“Hey,” she said, and Sam jumped. “Whoa, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s ok,” Sam said. “What did you want to talk about?”

“There’s something new in town,” Amy said as she sat down. “Some new social group. They bring in people from all walks of life, give them fun activities, help fund volunteer programs that help around the community. I’ve been to a few, and it all seems like a pretty great deal. But I kept getting the creeps, because everyone is really nice. The kind of nice when people want something from you, you know what I mean?”

Sam nodded. “So, you think they’re up to something.”

“They could be. Or it could be nothing. Either way, there’s a recruitment event they’re hosting tonight and tickets are free.” She held up a pair as proof.

Sam snorted. “You had me going. I thought you were being serious.”

“Oh, no, I am,” Amy said, grinning, “But we are broke students, and there will be free snacks. And music. And some fun! When was the last time you went out to a party?”

“I mean, I have an essay that I need to start…”

“If you haven’t even started it, knowing you it isn’t due for a week at least,” Amy insisted. “Come on. You can be my back-up, in case the cool-aid turns out to be spiked a la Jonestown.”

“Oh my god…”

“I’m just kidding. They won’t do anything weird at a recruitment party. And you’re really objective when it comes to reading people, so you can tell me if they’re nice in a creepy way or if I’m just imagining it.”

“You’re more social than I am, can’t you figure that out on your own?”

“Please?” Amy made big doe eyes at her friend. “Please come out tonight? It can be good research for your social worker degree. ‘How the boisterous youth live,’ or something like that.” She leaned closer. “Please?”

Sam looked at her for a moment, then sighed. “I guess,” she said right as Amy let out a whoop of success. “But I get to leave when I want. Are you bringing anyone else?”

“Just you. I figured a duo would be more discreet than a squad. Oh, would you like to wear matching outfits?”

Sam snorted. “You and I have nothing the same in our wardrobes. But, really,” she said before Amy could jump in again, “why me? I know I should act more like I belong in my major, but you could absolutely do better.”

“Call it a good feeling. I think you’d be a good match for this.”

Sam shook her head. Amy always acted by instinct. But she was rarely wrong, so…

“Can I wear jeans?”

**

The rec center was full of people by the time the girls showed up. A DJ was playing pop music, kids were playing with balloons in a corner, and chaperones were watching the dance floor and gossiping over punch.

“Seems pretty normal,” Sam said quietly.

“Let’s go mingle, then,” said Amy, tugging on her arm.

They ended up meeting a few high-ranking Sharing members who were involved in a lot of charities around town. “We’ve been sending a few members to schools, helping with literacy programs and anti-bullying,” said Mark, a high-schooler who had organised a few assembly talks at his own school. 

“That’s really amazing,” said Sam. “I used to work in the soup kitchen with my mom. Then I got so caught up in school and…” she trailed off and looked down. 

“There’s no shame in taking time to focus on learning,” Mark said. “But if you want, you can join with us. Josie was talking about helping at the food bank soon, you can ask her…” He looked around and waved over a woman. 

“Oh, I’m not sure, I still have school and don’t really have a lot of time…” Sam backpedaled as she remembered that she was here to check up on a cult. She glanced at Amy, who nodded reassuringly. 

Sam gulped. Maybe there was nothing to worry about. How bad could they be? Mark seemed like a normal kid. Maybe they really were exactly as they seemed.

Josie was more than happy to talk to a potential new recruit. “Oh, you’ll love us here,” she said. “We even offer scholarships for high-level members.” The more she talked, the more Sam found herself agreeing with everything the Sharing stood for. Helping kids, helping minorities, making the world a better place. The whole philosophy was so appealing.

Then Josie sprung an idea on her. “Would you like to become a full member today? There’s a small initiation ceremony where we get your contact information, and then you’ll get notified whenever we plan something new. And when we have special events, of course,” she smiled.

Sam barely glanced at Amy before nodding. What was the harm in sharing her phone number? 

Amy came with her as they walked to a small side room. Inside there was a chair and a table with a stack of papers on it. Sam barely even registered the room divider at the back. 

She walked right over to the papers and glanced over them. “So how much of my soul do I sign over to you?” she joked. Amy gave a snort of a laugh, but Josie’s eyes darkened. 

“Please take a seat, we like our members to read through everything before they sign,” she said, gently guiding Sam to the chair. Sam got a sense that she needed to run, but looked at Amy who was still smiling reassuringly at her. Amy even gave her a thumbs-up.

Sam glanced behind her at Josie. She had taken a few steps towards the room divider, but paused. 

Another glance at Amy. Nothing to worry about. Sam took a breath and shook off the paranoia of turning her back to Josie. She started reading.

A few moments later she felt a pair of hands grab her arms tightly to her sides as something cold pressed to her ear. “What…!” she gasped, but someone clamped a hand over her mouth. She struggled, but it was no use; within a minute, she felt her body go limp. A voice spoke directly in her mind, <My name is Fiorit 864. You are now under my control. Please don’t resist.>

Sam tried to scream for help, but she couldn’t even move her eyes. Nothing so much as twitched under her command.

Amy appeared in her peripherals, peering at her attentively. She… She had tricked her!

Sam screamed in her head, feeling the empty echoes of it as Fiorit gradually blocked her out.

**

"Are you sure she'll forgive you for this?" Daniela said as she watched Fiorit's latest host walk around with a passive look.

"Probably forgiveness will be a strong word for it," Amy replied, hiding that she was talking by pretending to take a sip of punch. "But I have a good feeling about them. Sam is very sweet, and she has a solid set of morals. She knows how to talk to people without talking down to them. She might be strong enough to pull Fiorit to our side."

"There are easier ways to recruit for the Peace Movement..." Daniela huffed, pretending to become interested in the snacks on the table between them. "But we do need someone like Fiorit on our side," her Yeerk Aflin said. "Higher-ranked Yeerks have more influence. That poor girl, though,” said Daniela. “We could have at least warned her."

"We couldn't," Giffi said through Amy's mouth. "Any hint of our intentions before Fiorit was ready to listen would get us all arrested." They looked back at Sam for a moment before looking away. "We needed to do it this way, horror and all. It's jarring, to join a host who is already horrified of us. Hopefully it will make her stop and think."

Daniela wasn't convinced. "No more non-consenting recruits," she said. "We only find hosts for the Yeerks we know will treat them right."

Amy didn't answer. She knew how hard it had been for Giffi to find a Yeerk who would be even just open to the idea of a voluntary host. Then it had taken the both of them a week just to figure out what kind of personality could sway her. 

The Peace Movement needed to grow as much as possible, and faster. The Visser was getting more creative with his plots. They needed to get ahead of him and direct Human and Yeerk perceptions, or there would be outright war. Amy could handle being a villain if it meant peace in the long term. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quiet Amy turns out to be an expert manipulator. War and desperation brings out the worst in people.  
> Thank you to everyone reading this for your comments and kudos!


	8. Spreading the Word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back after a few months! Also I went back and made a few small edits to previous chapters (nothing major, just enough to make it more readable).   
> I'm very sorry for leaving you all on a cliffhanger, it will probably happen again. On the positive side, I can promise at least one more chapter after this one. Enjoy!
> 
> “Life imitates art far more than art imitates life.” -Oscar Wilde

Getting Fiorit on their side had been a coup. She was on her way to becoming a sub-visser, and both Amy and Giffi knew that they needed someone in a position of power to direct the public perception of acceptable behaviour. Who better to encourage peaceful Yeerk-host relations than a symbiote sympathiser? 

In the meantime, though, there was something else this pair could do to help things along.

Amy and Fiorit’s host, Sam, had taken some sociology classes together at the university. As an arts student, sociology wasn’t part of Amy’s regular courses; she took it because she thought art and human nature went together. And Sam, being one of the smartest students in those classes, had been a great friend to help guide her through some of the more difficult parts of the class. 

There had been one project that they’d worked on, before the invasion had started, that had stuck with Amy; influences in revolutions.

The focus had mostly been on leadership, how the structure of a group could effect what kinds of actions they could take and the effect they could have. The teacher had spent most of the classes discussing the American civil rights movement. When they briefly touched on the photography of Gordon Parks, Amy had found her project topic. 

“We should talk about how artists influence public perception of a movement,” she’d said to Sam later. “You know, like the iconic ‘We can do it!’ poster that was used to inspire women to work during the second world war. Or, my art teacher was talking about Kazimir Malevich and the Russian revolution…”

They ended up falling into a rabbit hole of iconic images from the 20th century. “Yeah, I remember the black power salute, I never knew it had a title. Or a famous photographer,” said Sam.

Amy grinned. “I have a friend who likes to say that to be a good photographer, you have to be invisible.”

“I bet a lot of revolutionary artists would prefer to stay anonymous at the time,” Sam said after reading over the history of that Olympics moment. “Shit, I can’t imagine getting death threats over a hand gesture.”

“Art has power,” Amy said. “It stirs up strong emotions.”

“Hmm,” Sam hummed, glancing over some of the books they’d brought from the library to go over. “For some of these, it’s hard to find meaning unless you know what you’re looking at. I mean, a white square, who would have thought a plain white square would be a revolution reference?”

**

Giffi had been trying to cheer up Amy since they’d helped to infest Sam. It had helped that it had taken only a couple of weeks before they were ready to hear about the Yeerk Peace Movement and get included into their little group. Sam had that kind of power over people; she was kind, and simply a likable person. Even a Yeerk would listen to her message of peace.

The downside was that Sam refused to talk to Amy. 

“Fair enough,” Giffi had said through Amy’s mouth. She hadn’t felt like saying anything herself.

So Amy threw herself into the project she had wanted to do for a while now; war murals. 

“This is crazy,” said Daniela, who had joined her at the store and was helping to carry a shopping basket of art supplies. “You can’t just paint a Yeerk or an Andalite on a wall and expect people to, I don’t know, magically accept a symbiotic relationship.”

Amy glanced over a display of spray paints. “I’m not expecting Yeerks and Humans to hold hands and dance off into the sunset. Sam and I used to talk about stuff like this; she said you start small, with a very simple, basic symbol. You start by putting it everywhere that people see it, buildings and alleys and park benches. You get people to see it, to notice it, and to start wondering what it could mean.” She grabbed three different shades of blue and filled the basket. “Then you attach that symbol to information, like a descriptive mural.” She paused as someone walked down the aisle. “Then the symbol becomes a way to rally a group to a cause.”

Daniela readjusted the basket in her hands. “I still don’t know how you could pull it off. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like it…” she was refering to the drawing Amy had shown her this morning, a very simple pictogram in Andalite-blue that looked like a Yeerk wrapping around a Human brain. If you knew what you were looking at. “…But I still don’t get how a drawing can get people’s attentions.”

“During WW2,” Amy began, hauling their supplies up to the check-out counter, “there was a guy who would do inspection checks on army aircraft, named Kilroy. He was good at his job, so his superiors thought he was slacking off when he finished early. So he started leaving a little cartoon of a guy poking his head over a wall and the words ‘Kilroy was here’ on the planes he checked.”

“Wait, why do I know that…”

“Because the drawing and the phrase became a meme. It spread over all the way into the Cold War, a vague little threat that Americans were nearby.” Amy held out her hand. “I’m a little short on money this month. Starving artist student and all.”

Daniela sighed and handed over enough money to cover half. “So you think we could start a meme.”

“I do.” Amy grabbed half the bags and Daniela took the other half. “And you do too, or you wouldn’t be helping me.”

“Gotta support the endeavors of the youth, or something like that…” she muttered. Aflin believed this was a good idea, even if Daniela wasn’t sure. “Are they gonna know what the symbol means, though? I mean I know that the regular Humans won’t, but…”

“Sam once said that art doesn’t mean anything unless you know what you’re looking at. So, unless you’re already having thoughts about symbiosis…”

“Which the Yeerks didn’t until they met us.”

“…Then you won’t understand this. To everyone who doesn’t agree with peace, this is just basic Yeerk propaganda. We can hide behind their own misunderstanding.”

Daniela was impressed. “They teach you a lot at that school of yours.”

Amy gave a wry smile. “I had a good tutor.”

**

Amy spent the next week placing the insignia everywhere, but in chalk; she didn’t want to attach the symbol to any specific place. People would see it, and then it would wash away before they had time to think too much about it. 

When it came time to painting her big mural, she debated asking Sam for help. She wouldn’t have gotten this far without her and it seemed right.

<She’s not going to be happy to be around you, but I think her and Fiorit would want to be part of this,> Giffi said. 

<Maybe I can place her on lookout while I paint,> Amy mused.

Sam was almost willing to talk to her. “Sam is still mad at you,” Fiorit said. “We’re friends now, but…” they trailed off.

“Yeah, I deserve that,” Amy said. “Shoving an alien into her brain can be kinda traumatising.”

Fiorit was quiet for a second before saying; “She wants me to tell you something vulgar, so I won’t say it, but she says you’ll know what she meant.”

“Yeah.” Amy tilted her head to the side and looked away.

“We’re still going to help you,” Fiorit continued. “Personally I’m very curious to see what you’ve planned. Sam says that you’re a good artist, by Human standards.”

“Thanks,” Amy muttered.

**

The mural featured Visser 3 at it’s center as a seemingly-glorified leader with a sci-fi-looking gun. He was surrounded by people with slugs on their heads, coming out of their ears. They were all turning away from him and looking at a more stylised version of the blue insignia Amy had been spreading around town. The insignia was, very noticeably, a different shade of blue than the Visser, who was almost purple; in fact, it looked like the same colouring of the small Andalite who regularly showed up to fight the Visser.

If you weren’t a Controller, it looked like something from a comic book.

For a brief moment, it was a way to tell who was a Controller and who wasn’t. Bryan from paints class wouldn’t stop talking about the “wicked-cool alien centaur dude and his minions” for a week.

It did become a meme, for a while. The Pool was buzzing with gossip about who could have painted it; it wasn’t a Sharing project, and it wasn’t really great as a recruitment technique anyway. Yeerks were joking about being hats. Some people started humming “another brick in the wall”, in reference to the human Controllers.

The part Daniela liked most was how everyone, _everyone_ liked to mock the Visser about it. Behind his back, of course.

“Today I heard someone say he was like that judge from The Wall, the one who talked out of his butt,” she giggled. “Oh man, I hope that mural never gets painted over.”

“Me too,” said Fiorit. They looked at Amy. “You worked hard on it.”

Amy smiled at her friend hesitantly. Sam didn’t smile back. But she didn’t look away either, and it felt like a peace offering.


	9. A Human, an Andalite and a Yeerk Walk Into a Bar...

It took Fiorit about a month before they and Sam decided to visit the Andalites. To be fair, it took a few weeks of being in the Yeerk Peace Movement before anyone told them about the Andalites.

With good reason, as it turned out.

“You have _Andalites_ living in a damn _SUBURB_!?” they screeched at Daniela. 

“It was the best place to hide them…” Daniela began, before Fiorit spoke over her. 

“Out-of-town would have been better! _Dead_ would have been better! What were you all thinking, Andalites of all things… They’ll sell us out in a heartbeat!”

“They’d have to ruin their own cover to do that…” Illim began calmly, trying to make peace. Fiorit wasn’t having it.

“They’d do it to spite us! They’re sleezy, underhanded, home-wrecking…”

Behind them Daniela began to whisper “Them no-good, trouble-making varmints!” with a cartoon accent. Fiorit wheeled around to glare at her. 

“You think I sound ridiculous? Well if you’d…”

“You _are_ ridiculous,” Daniela interrupted them. “Tell ‘em, Aflin.” “I’ve heard all about Andalites too,” Aflin said. “But I’ve met these two. They aren’t like that. We don’t need to worry.”

“This is why peace could never work between our two species,” Fiorit sneered. “You’ve been in that idiot’s head barely a year and already she has you convinced to be all sweet and sugary and _naive_.”

“Enough,” Illim stepped in. “You can’t let this cloud your judgment of your host.”

Fiorit seethed for a moment longer, then crossed Sam’s arms and glared at him. “I won't sell out Sam.”

He stared back at her, unwavering. “Good.”

“But I need to meet these… Andalites,” they bit out. “I don’t trust you enough to not check for myself.”

“And that is fair,” Illim said. “I can let them know you’re coming.”

"Wait..." Sam cut in. "Let me talk to them as myself. Fiorit isn't really... going to get an unbiased reaction if they're the one talking."

"Yeah, no kidding," Daniela muttered. "Gafinilan already has trust issues after that whole thing with Zomni."

"Mertil is a little more forgiving," Mr. Tidwell said. "Why don't you bring him a plant, that might be a nice conversation opener."

**

<How... interesting,> Mertil said, glancing at the little pilea Sam had brought over. He didn't move to take it, so Sam awkwardly placed it on the windowsill by the door. 

"They, um... I heard they like passive sunlight," she said. She's barely made it into the door and already things were going...

<Super great,> Fiorit commented snarkily in her head. Sam shushed her. 

"Sorry if this is sudden... I'm a new member to the Peace Movement. The gang thought it would be good for me to talk to... talk to you."

Mertil stared at her with his main eyes while his stalk ones kept glancing around, at the door and the window and the plant. He didn't say anything, barely nodding in acknowledgement. 

<Already I don't like him,> Fiorit thought. Sam decided that was only proof that she needed to make more of an effort.

"I'm sorry to be blunt but... I've only heard bad things about you. I'm here because I want to know... I guess I want to know more about you. To convince Fiorit that Humans aren't crazy for being trusting."

Mertil twitched, in a motion that Fiorit recognised from an earlier host's eyes; he was meaning to slash his tail blade forward. Sam jerked back reflexively before she remembered that he didn't have a tail anymore. 

<Maybe you shouldn't trust us,> Mertil said. <We wouldn't have trusted you.>

"Yeah, I've heard some of those stories..." Sam bit her lip. "Can I ask you about those?"

Mertil stared at her for a moment. She forced herself to stare back and shift her stance so she wasn't so defensive.

Finally Mertil spoke. <It's customary for your people to talk over food and drink, isn't it?> he asked. <It is the same with mine. Come share some water with me.>

He turned and walked further into the house, away from the doors and windows and potential prying neighbours. Sam followed.

He stopped at the kitchen and pulled out a glass for her. <You brought me a plant as a host gift, correct?> he asked. <So I am the host in this situation?>

"I... guess that's right," Sam answered. "Mostly I just wanted to be nice..."

<You are the host in the broader sense,> he said after a beat. <You know this planet the best out of us all here right now,> he glanced pointedly at her head, <and your "gang" helped me and Gafinilan become situated in this foreign territory. Your species is very interesting for that. You are caught between the two of us, and your reaction, for some of you at least, is to welcome us all. Why is that?>

<Woof, starting with the heavy stuff, isn't he,> Fiorit commented.

Sam looked at him for a while, putting her words together. Finally she reached her glass under the tap and filled it before she spoke.

"Usually, being a host is seen as an important, high-status thing," she said. "Usually, it means hosting parties, and you get to show off your house and your cooking skills and your social skills. But it's also been about helping people who need a safe place. That's important too, for a community; when everyone around you is comfortable, there's less risk of bad things happening. The Yeerks will be here anyway; I could fight Fiorit, and I did at first, or I could try to figure out what they need here and how I can get that to happen without hurting anyone. And I could gain some freedom. The same goes for you. You wouldn't have survived long in town; Marnie told me how she figured out what Gafinilan was within a week of being Yeerkified. You both would have been caught by the Visser and Controlled. And that would not have been good for us. For the Humans, that is." She took a swig of water. "That's what Amy would say, anyway. She likes to look at strategic points of view and stuff like that."

Mertil had three of his eyes staring at her now. <And what would you, yourself, say?>

"I don't like suffering," she said with a shrug. "Fiorit was scary at first, but they aren't now. They let me have control of my body and I let them use my eyes to see. They're an interesting friend and they help me in my studies. I'm training to be a social worker," she clarified.

<What is that?>

"When bad things are happening to people, I help them solve their problems. My focus is on communication, so like I help them fully understand what is happening and what possible solutions they have, and I get other people to understand what is happening and how they can help."

Mertil's eyes crinkled at the corners in a smile. <I see,> he said. <And that is why you are here.>

Sam smiled back, slowly. "Kind of," she said. "I need to be able to understand, for myself, first."

<As if he'd actually tell you anything useful...> Fiorit grumbled.

<I'll tell you what I know of the war, if you'll let me hear what... Fiorit was their name? I want to know what Fiorit has to say,> Mertil said.

Sam grinned. "Perfect," she said. 

**

"No, _you_ have it wrong," Fiorit announced through Sam's mouth. They waved their glass of water for emphasis. "The best thing about this planet is _spaghetti_! It's not _my_ fault you don't have a mouth to taste it with!"

Sam sat contentedly to the sidelines in her own mind, laughing. It had taken an hour to get to this point and she was enjoying it. There had been a few problems, when their stories diverged, but Sam mostly figured out how to bring them back together; as it turned out, they mostly agreed on everything, only needed to adjust to the idea that they might have each made mistakes along the way.

And having gotten past that, well...

<Clearly you have never experienced running through a forest on four legs,> Mertil said. <I doubt your host could ever get up to a decent speed.>

"Hey, leave me out of this!" Sam laughed. "I bet I could outpace you in a car, anyway."

<It is my understanding that a car would not fit in a forest,> said Mertil at the same time that Fiorit said <You'd hit a tree.>

Sam shook her head. Those two had started as enemies and now they were ganging up on her together. She took a sip of water to hide her smile.

**

They stayed a while longer before leaving for Sam's afternoon class. 

<I suppose...> Mertil began, standing a few feet from the door, <...it is not so impossible, to be friends with a Yeerk.>

"Yeah, Andalites aren't all arrogant jerks," Fiorit said. 

"No, in this case that's going to be Fiorit's role," Sam joked.

Mertil smiled. <It has been a pleasure to talk with you, Sam... Fiorit. You are welcome back anytime.>

"I'll only come back if there's food," Fiorit tried to say over Sam's shoulder as she walked out the door.

"I'll be in the neighbourhood again Thursday," Sam said. "See you then!"

<We can pick his brains for more information on the Andalite homeworld, right?> Fiorit said as they walked down the street.

<Sure, Fiorit,> Sam said, letting them pretend that they were serious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, playing host is something that is so fundamentally Human that we have references to the practice dating back into ancient times, across multiple cultures. It seems that it's just a core instinct for us to want to share the things we're proud of, even if it's to show them off; we proudly tell everyone about our regional foods, the coolest local landmarks, the best places to take photos. We are a people who give safe passage to travelers because we want them to be as delighted as we are about our accomplishments and our home.  
> I don't care how paranoid people would be during first contact. We'll eventually fall back into the habit of being welcoming hosts. Whether or not that means being a Host, capital H.


End file.
